I tugged nervously at my dress. Nami and Rosa were behind me, weaving flowers and plaits into my long, brown hair. It waved neatly, having been blow dried and oiled by my entourage.
“Are you sure you don’t want any lipstick?” Rosa asked, fiddling with a daisy. She glanced at me in the mirror, her sharply plucked eyebrows raised.
“I’m sure,” I said, rolling my eyes at her. They sparkled in the bright light, wide beneath the swathe of brown and gold eye shadow on my lids.
“I think you look good without it, anyway,” Nami shrugged. She wound a small, black band around the end of the braid she’d woven into my hair, and then stepped back. “You’re all done, Ari.”
“Thanks,” I smiled, turning from side to side to admire myself in the mirror. The dress was simple: I was draped in gold, tightly fitting and hugging the curve of my waist. It had a squared off sweetheart neckline, and I wore a shimmer of glittering highlight across my collarbones. My sun necklace, given to me by my parents, so very